History Breaks Down Into Images, Not Into

If Sleep Is The Apogee Of Physical Relaxation, Boredom Is The Apogee Of Mental Relaxation. Boredom Is The Dream Bird That Hatches The Egg Of Experience.

The Crowd Is The Veil Through Which The Familiar City Beckons To The Flâneur As Phantasmagoria-now A Landscape, Now A Room.

Melancholy Betrays The World For The Sake Of Knowledge. But In Its Tenacious Self-absorption It Embraces Dead Objects In Its Contemplation, In Order To Redeem Them

Mechanical Reproduction Emancipates The Work Of Art From Its Parasitical Dependence On Ritual.

Any Order Is A Balancing Act Of Extreme Precariousness.